


A Splash of Coffee

by likeelliottsmithsings



Category: Quinn Dreaming
Genre: Canon Compliant, Coffee Shops, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-25
Updated: 2018-07-25
Packaged: 2019-06-16 04:50:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15429393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/likeelliottsmithsings/pseuds/likeelliottsmithsings
Summary: I leaned against the counter where finished drinks passed from Quinn’s hands into the hands of those desperate for a caffeine fix.  Or, like in my case, those desperate for an extra glimpse at the freckle constellation decorating his face and causing hearts to take swan dives into a pool of unrequited love. Just me? Probably.





	A Splash of Coffee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [InkandOwl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/InkandOwl/gifts).



> There's a first time for everything and I figured why not spread a little Quinn Dreaming love for my very first post here! If you've been living under a rock and haven't heard of Quinn Dreaming by InkandOwl - you definitely need to do yourself the favor and [take a look at it](https://quinndreaming.tumblr.com) before you read this! There's the link to the tumblr and if you're ready to start reading the comic - click [here](https://quinndreaming.tumblr.com/post/161080184764/first-next) for the first page!
> 
> Also if you're super in love with Quinn, Sorrel and the rest of these wonderful witches - TJ's [Pateron](https://www.patreon.com/quinndreaming/) always has the most incredible bonus Quinn Dreaming content! Seriously - you're going to be obsessed. You're welcome.

“There’s little to no coffee in this and enough sugar for me to be concerned for your health and the potential of juvenile diabetes, but I think you’ll like it.”  
  
I leaned against the counter where finished drinks passed from Quinn’s hands into the hands of those desperate for a caffeine fix.  Or, like in my case, those desperate for an extra glimpse at the freckle constellation decorating his face and causing hearts to take swan dives into a pool of unrequited love. Just me? Probably.  
  
“My hero.” I actively had to stop myself from making what could only be described as heart eyes in Quinn’s direction.  Which happened to be multiple times a day occurrence for me thanks to my heart deciding that Charles August Quinn was it for me and there was nothing I could do to stop it.  “I’ll be over there if you need me, Professor.” I motioned my thumb in the air towards a table filled with all of my favorite humans minus Quinn.  
  
Statice was sitting with her chair tipped back and her feet dangling from the floor, wearing headphones.  I could hear the faint sounds of Gorrillaz. Daphne was sipping something that looked frothy and delicious.  Arthur was draped over her shoulder and had his homework sprawled completely across the table. As if he was actually evening doing it.  
  
When I walked over and placed my drink down on top of Arthur’s third period essay that was definitely due yesterday, I kicked my sister’s chair and motioned for her to take her headphones off.   
  
Statice rolled her eyes.  “This had better not be another one of those complaints about how it’s brutally unfair that freshman girls get to lurk around the counter and watch Quinn while he makes them ridiculous drinks that are topped with whipped cream and contain zero coffee.”  
  
Before I could even begin to protest my sister’s false accusation, Arthur was stealing a sip of my drink and making a ridiculous face.  “Because there’s zero coffee in this and you were just standing at the counter staring at him.”  
  
“I’m not a freshman, at least.” I yanked my cup back from Arthur’s grasp and took a sip.  Quinn knew exactly how I liked my coffee. All milk and sugar and barely a hint of any actual caffeine. I think Statice would have climbed over the counter and dumped a milky-syrupy-concoction of a  drink right on top of that messy hair of his if he had actually given me any more ammunition for being overly bouncy. Figuratively. She wouldn’t have really - no one could ever do such a thing to a boy with a face like Quinn’s.  Plus I was overly bouncy all the time and she’s had a lifetime of getting used to it.  
  
“Now that I am in the know,” Daphne mumbled from around her cup, licking whipped cream that was melting due to the warmth of her drink to stop it from sliding down onto her hand, “I’m fully invested in hearing all about how adorable you think the professor looks in that bowtie.”   
  
“First off,” I set my drink down and turned my head to make sure that Quinn wasn’t in earshot of this conversation.  Mainly because if there was going to be any chance of him finding out about my feelings I wanted it to come from my mouth somewhere alone, just him and I.  Not because he overheard our friends spilling secrets and teasing me in the middle of his workplace. “If anyone doesn’t think he looks adorable in that bowtie, they should get their vision checked.”  Truthfully. He was dreamy - pun intended - all the time. But the bowtie was an adorably perfect added bonus and no one in their right mind would complain about that. “And secondly… I was going to complain about how everyone seems to be finding themselves a date for homecoming except me.”  I refused to admit that this did somehow in fact have to do with Quinn. I couldn’t give the table full of all knowing friends the satisfaction. No way.  
  
“Ehem,” Statice cleared her throat.  
  
I reached over and placed my hand on top of hers and gave it a little squeeze.  “I’ll rephrase. Those of us who would like to have a date to homecoming. Like these two,” I motioned between Daphne and Arthur and did my absolute best not to frown at the way they could so easily just up and decide to go to the dance together.  
  
“What about Leo?” I’m pretty sure everyone at the table shot a death glare in Arthur’s direction.  Myself included. “What?”  
  
“Been there, done that.” Statice waved her hand as if she was signaling for the next potential suitor to present himself.  
  
I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to the reason I wasn’t going to resume things with Leo or invite any other _potential suitor_ to the homecoming dance. He was behind a group of - you guessed it - freshman girls ordering sugary drinks that involved a lot of whipped cream and too many smiles from my personal favorite barista.  That was the thing about Quinn. He didn’t even have to try to be so adorable. The freckles, the way he dressed, the way those brown eyes were just the right amount of floppy puppy meets Disney princess. He was perfect.  
  
And tragically uninterested in having anything more than a friendship with me.  A best-friendship. But nothing that involved my desire to kiss him repeatedly until we both were gasping for air and wondering why the hell we hadn’t done this earlier.  The day that Quinn told us all he was bisexual had given me a little extra hope that someday, somehow we’d wind up together in the perfect combination of electricity and dreams.  But today, thanks to freshmen girls and a wide variety of hetero couples talking about their pre-homecoming dance plans… My little extra hope was nowhere to be found.  
  
“Leo isn’t who I want to go to homecoming with.” I reminded the table of friends staring at me once I snapped back to my iced coffee and their judgement.  “Stop looking at me like that. You know it’s not even going to be something worth discussing.”  
  
“Oh we’re discussing it,” Daphne craned her neck to look at our freckled beauty behind the counter in all his coffee-slinging glory.  “Why won’t you ask him to go to homecoming with you?”  
  
“Honestly, if I wasn’t dating this gorgeous gal,” Arthur hooked his thumb in Daphne’s direction, “And you asked me to go to homecoming, I’d go with you.  We’re friends. I wouldn’t say no.”  
  
“Appreciated.  Definitely. But I don’t consider myself head over heels for you.  Nor do I spend time actively daydreaming about what it would be like to kiss you.  So our homecoming date would be uneventful and entirely too PG for either of our liking.”   Plus the idea of Arthur attending homecoming with anyone other than Daphne seemed so ridiculous.  “Is homecoming even Quinn’s style?”  
  
To which I was greeted with a group response of, “You could be Quinn’s style.”   My friends were predictable and I loved them.  
  
“He’s never once made any indication that he looks at me as anything other than his best friend,” I cheated and looked at Daphne.  She would know. She would be able to feel it and I was hoping that she would let her poker face fail just a little bit at my sad, pathetic, desperate attempt at wondering if it was worth wooing Charlie Quinn into coming to the dance with me.  She didn’t flinch. I would have thrown my straw at her if I wasn’t still drinking my sugar milk with a splash of coffee.  
  
“The whole wide eyed, hanging off of your side at all times, staring when he doesn’t think you’re looking type vibe doesn’t contradict what you just said at all in your head?” Arthur questioned, practically draping himself all over the table full of his papers.  I leaned back in my chair and raised an eyebrow at him. “Wait. Seriously? You don’t actually notice the little bit of drool on the side of his chin everytime you’re around?”  
  
“Arthur,” Statice interrupted, shaking her head  “This is equal opportunity pining. Sorrel drools, too.”  
  
“I need new friends,” I mumbled, turning my head back towards Quinn’s direction.  He was looking right back at me. For fifteen entire seconds I thought that maybe - just maybe - Arthur wasn’t full of shit and Quinn did sometimes look at me for a second or two longer than friends looked at each other.  But then he was waving to me and mouthing that he had ten more minutes until his break and I couldn’t focus on anything else but waving back with a smile so wide my cheeks hurt. Send help. I’ve fallen and I’m never, ever getting up.  
  
“Listen,” Daphne’s voice interrupted my daydream of Quinn actually being interested in me. She reached across Arthur so she could touch my arm.  I looked at her with my best puppy-dog-eyes and a little bit of a pout, silently pleading for her to not torture me the way Statice and Arthur had.  She only glanced over her shoulder in Quinn’s direction for a brief for seconds before back at me. “You’re each other’s best friend, right? If you can make it through puberty together, I think you can handle the possibility of having to spend another Saturday night playing video games if he says no to the dance.  Plus, what these two were trying to say is… What’s the worst thing that could happen?”  
  
Daphne. My sweet, sweet Daphne.  Unlike Statice and Arthur, I’ve decided to keep her.  Okay, really, I’m keeping them all because they are my favorite people besides the one and only Charlie Quinn, and I loved them something fierce.  Even when they teased me to no end about having a crush on my best friend. Plus, Daphne had a point. We _had_ gone through a lot of things together.  And as scary as it would be to admit the feelings that I have for him - there was a piece of me that knew we’d be okay, no matter what.  He’d still be my best friend and I’d still be his. We’d still spill secrets and stay up late creating dream maps with shared - not synced - magic, even if he didn’t feel the same desire to kiss my face and hold my hand like I felt towards him.  It would be no different then how I feel every day of my life. Loving Quinn secretly was something I had grown accustomed to.  
  
“Fine,” I said with only enough time to sit up a bit more straight when a chair made a screeching noise as it slid across the floor to be right beside mine.  A tiny professor plopped into it and set his mug of steaming coffee down in front of him. “Fine what?”  
  
“Fine, I’ll help Arthur with his mess of a homework pile.” I responded easily, draping my arm comfortably across the back of Quinn’s chair because I just couldn’t help myself.  
  
“Oh.  Because you’re any more organized?” Quinn asked, full Disney eyes on display as he looked at me.  He was grinning. So I did too. And without me really telling it to - my arm found a home around his shoulders.  He reached up with his free hand to slip his hand around one of my fingers. The noticeable size difference of our hands had distracted me for entirely too long for me to come up with anything witty in response to him and his sarcasm.  “Harsh, Quinn. I’m supposed to be your favorite.”  
  
“All day, every day.” He responded in a tone that sounded way too easy for him to be being serious.  But maybe he was being serious. Maybe he was doing the same sort of internal battle that I was doing.  Maybe the three amigos had sat with Quinn and held similar conversations with him while he was doing the drooly-staring thing Arthur claims he does.  ( I still don’t believe him, at all.) Maybe Daphne was right. Maybe we’d end up either at the dance together or spending Saturday night kicking each other’s asses in Mario Kart.  
  
He gave my finger a squeeze and tilted his head just slightly towards the notes of paper on the table, laughing as Arthur explained all of the excuses he had given to each of his teachers that resulted in an extension on the project due. Quinn was talking to Arthur about a paper that was past due, or almost due, or some other Arthur excuse, but my brain had stopped listening. It was much more interested in daydreaming about connecting the dots of Quinn's freckles with kisses and slow dancing with him to a poorly curated high school dance soundtrack without any fear of rejection.  
  
Quinn leaned into me while he tried - and failed - to not laugh at Arthur's struggle anymore. While my favorite sound filled my ears, I thought about what Daphne said.  This was Charlie.  My best friend. The one person who unintentionally staked such a claim on every ounce of me, that I didn’t stand a chance at finding another person to share my heart with.  No matter what the outcome, I owed it to myself to try. If I just asked him tomorrow… What _was_ the worst thing that could happen?


End file.
